rains

Moist and chilly, green as never before,
I hear the wind rustle, I don't get the song.
They're calling out loud, the shower, the leaves, the cloud,
I nestle in my room, in here my comfort zone,
this hide-out where I'm all alone
can sing me to sleep when I want to
but I don't get to hear the wind, I don't get the song.

unsaid.

i may not look you in the eye
some things are beyond what, where and why
when questions cloud you, and words fail me,
find me reaching for my world that lets me be.

Few days with Mitch.

On a pretty shelf in a warm home
he sat by the name of Mitch Albom.
Of Morrie Schwartz he spoke.
All my veiled emotions he stole.

fa(r)ther

My rods and cones dismiss the lantern
only to wait for the stars to show up.
I wake up soon, gladly so
but the light of the day still remains to flow.